


i was born when you spoke my name

by accol



Category: True Blood
Genre: (oh please forgive this experiment in first person pov), Flashbacks, Historical, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric and Godric hunt the killer of Eric's family through the ages.  A series of vignettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is assembled and re-edited from _The Missing Dreams_ , a fic I originally posted on ff.net. I have melded tv and book canons, and Pam is from London here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eric's POV.

_ Maybe I was born _  
_when you spoke my name aloud_  
 _the very first time._

\- [Tyler Knott Gregson](http://tylerknott.com/)

 

****

_**Constantinople, 1453** _

 

Constantinople was mired in death. Godric and I arrived after the fighting had been going on for weeks. Fires were burning within the walls of the city and the menacing glow was reaching into the night sky; the air smelled of ash and rot. The Ottoman leaders came with many tens of thousands of men, while the Byzantine Christians had far fewer. They were valiantly defending their territory, but the city walls were literally and figuratively crumbling around them.

Godric was small and dark-haired, making it easy for him to blend in with the troops of either side. He had been born into his human life along the Mediterranean Sea, and the humans here were similarly complected.

"Eric, stay hidden while I search along the city walls," Godric commanded. I grudgingly had to hide myself, being too fair and tall to be inconspicuous. I started to complain but he was gone too fast, running the final kilometer to the city's boundary.

I pulled my traveling cloak around me, concealing my pale skin and hair. Fortunately the spring was still cool, and I could use my cloak without it seeming out of season. I melted into the shadows near a cluster of tents housing some of the Ottoman troops. At this time of night, the sounds from the shelters typically were steady breathing or snores. But tonight an excited buzz filled the air even in the late hour. The full moon had risen tonight eclipsed in shadow. An omen, the troops were chattering, a bad omen for the Byzantines.

Then I heard it. My head spun to the north, getting a bearing. Those distinctive howls that can only belong to Weres. They will be hunting, forced to transform by the strangely pale light of the eclipsed full moon. Godric and I will also hunt.

"Go quickly," Godric said as he reappeared by my side in the shadows. His eyes were pointing north too, and we silently whisked past the tents toward the ridge where the howls originated. In the faintest whisper, he related what he had learned near the city walls. "Constantinople will fall within days. The Christians are already dwindling in numbers, and they see this eclipse as a bad omen. We have only tonight to find what you seek."

I nodded to Godric. We had been finding and losing the trail of the branded Weres and their unknown master for centuries at this point, and I did not want to lose them again.

The stench of death and unclean humans pervaded the area we were passing through, but I caught a faint whiff of another vampire, or possibly two, nearby. "Do you smell them?" I asked Godric.

"Yes, but we do not have time to find them or to explain our quest to them," he responded. "They cannot help us this night." Grudgingly I agreed.

We summited the ridgeline and tracked the Weres' scent into the adjacent valley. There we spied a tunnel entrance, freshly dug. The Ottoman troops were attempting to enter under the city's fortifications, but had to this point been repelled by the Byzantines' counter-tunnels. While the Byzantine humans could push back the Ottoman humans in these narrow quarters, they stood no chance against what was about to enter the passage.

Three Weres, claws and teeth glinting in the pale moonlight, were descending the ridge to the tunnel entrance. The beasts' brands were obscured by their long hair, black, all three, and matted with filth. My lip rose in a snarl of rage and disgust.

To my left, Godric tensed, ready to attack. Or perhaps ready to intervene if I went into bloodlust, mad with vengeful wrath. We had encountered this pack of branded Weres one other time, in Germania. I was still young then, only a bit over 100 years a vampire. The Weres had been sent to assassinate the sitting Holy Roman Emperor Frederick the Red Beard, apparently in an effort to foment instability within the Empire. When we intercepted them, I could not restrain my rage and tore the beasts limb from bloody limb before we could interrogate them. Godric punished me severely, and I deserved every lash of the silver whip for my lack of control. He had not needed to punish me thusly in the hundreds of years since that day.

But now we were faced again with the branded Weres, and I found my rage boiling my blood. If a vampire could feel warm, my skin would have been hot to the touch. Godric extended his arm across my chest, barring my advance. "Eric..." Godric had a cautioning tone to his voice.

I understood the unspoken message and agreed fully with it. "We will interrogate them," I growled. This time I would learn their master's identity, I was sure of it.

With that assurance, Godric lowered his arm. With one last fiery look in each others' eyes, we leapt silently into battle.

Not until the last fraction of a second did the Weres sense our presence as they focused on the tunnel opening. By then it was too late for them to maneuver out of the way, and we each tackled one beast. I efficiently pinned mine and crouched over him as his struggling claws snagged my clothes. My fingers dug into his neck, squeezing his windpipe and smothering his howls, until he lost consciousness and reverted to his human form. As I began to bind him, I was sideswiped by the third Were. Its claws ripped the flesh over my ribs, easily piercing my cloak. A pained roar escaped my lips and I tore handfuls of fur from the Were's skin in frantic retribution.

Scenting my blood, the Were reverted to his human form and began drinking from my wound! He threw his head back and howled. "If Master would only feed us blood like this!" the Were exclaimed to no one in particular.

Godric had subdued his foe, and he threw the third Were nearly ten meters away, disengaging him from my bloody wound. The thud of his body meeting the ground and his whimper of pain was poor satisfaction. My flesh was already healing, but my rage had only grown.  _Fuck self-control, I will kill that dog! We can interrogate the other two!_

My battle cry echoed through the small valley. I leapt to my feet, ready to chase the soon-to-be-dead Were as he retreated toward the tents. Immediately Godric growled at me, "Control yourself, Eric. Let that one go back to his Master. His scent will guide us after we question these two. We may use his retreat to our advantage. Quell your rage!"

With tremendous effort, I turned to face the two Weres at our feet. They were regaining consciousness, and we had to act now to restrain them bodily before they attempted to change again.

I violently shook the man in my grip. "Who branded you?" I demanded. Godric held the other Were silently, forcing the man to stop struggling and listen to the question too.

"We will never say who our Master is," the Were gasped out as I pressed on his chest. His face was reddening as he struggled for breath.

"He gives you vampire blood?" Godric asked incredulously, a disgusted tone in his voice. Our blood is sacred to us, Godric had taught me. To our revulsion, the blood gave these branded Weres strength beyond a regular Were, and it made our encounters with them unpredictable.

It was Godric's prisoner who responded, despite Godric's knee pressing on him painfully. "As much as we want!" The stupid Were said this triumphantly, like he expected us to wither at his answer.

Instead, it was my turn to witness Godric's rage. "You filth! You do not deserve to BREATHE, let alone take a vampire's blood!" Godric had braced his knee further onto the Were's chest, and now was slowly pulling on the man's arm. Tortuously, a tendon popped as his shoulder came out of joint. Godric was losing himself to his rage and was certainly going to kill this Were.

"Who is your Master?" I again demanded my prisoner answer. There was little time before the bloodlust would overtake both Godric and I...

A wet noise was followed by a wailing scream from the Were as Godric tore away his arm and flung it into the weeds. My fangs were down, and I forced myself to use this scene to pressure my prisoner to answer. "Look!" I yelled at him, as I brutally turned his head toward his bloodied companion. "Who is your Master? Answer me or your fate will be the same," I roared.

The Were paled as the other prisoner's struggles were becoming weaker by the moment. "Brother, Dimitri escaped. He'll return to Master," the man whispered to his dying friend in a brave but defeated tone.

Then I knew we would get no more information from these two. They were ready to die before telling their secrets. So we obliged them. Godric and I sank our fangs into our preys' necks and viciously fed. Were blood tasted hideous, but the feel of his slowing heartbeat made the experience sweet. One less soldier in this supernatural army with an unknown commander.

The third Were's trail had petered out in the Ottoman encampment. Perhaps the vampires I had smelled had killed him, we did not know.

 

****

**_Sweden, 930_ **

 

_Father. Brother. Son._

The words echoed in my ears as the blackness took me.

Some time later, I could not tell how long, I started awake in the absolute darkness of the earth. It smelled fresh and cold. Someone's arm circled my waist, and it kept me from panic.

"Rise," the owner of the comforting arm commanded. I obeyed immediately, and thrust my arms up through the soil. I swam through the dirt and stones like they were water, and leapt out of the ground like I could fly. The moon illuminated my companion: Death. He looked at me steadily, silently, tranquilly and he was beautiful. Without a moment's hesitation, I trusted him with every fiber of my being.

He gave me a look of intense pride, surveying my naked body like he had sculpted me from the clay through which I had risen. At the edge of the clearing, I watched three women melt into the shadows. Somehow I knew them to be the Norns, the Norse Fates. They were never known to appear in physical form, only appearing as a vague presence at births to spin the child's fate. As they departed, my friend spoke.

"You have been given a powerful destiny. I have never seen the Norns bless one of our births before."

He paused for a moment; did he know details of my destiny? His words drilled into my soul, and my eyes pored over his bare form. A hunger like I had never experienced before was building in my body. It felt like I was starving and ready for battle and full of lust, a nearly overwhelming torrent of sensations.

"Father, brother, son," he spoke the words that had accompanied me while I slept in the earth. "I am Godric. You are mine, Eric, and we are Vampire."

Perhaps it was because his presence was comforting to me, but I accepted his words without protest.

"I am so hungry." My voice was raspy, and I felt urgently thirsty. I could not tell the difference between thirst and hunger anymore.

He smiled a truly feral smile. His mouth opened and his fangs emerged, glinting in the moonlight. Godric looked supremely terrifying and yet I knew from his words and from the primal cravings coursing through my body that we were one and the same. In another wave of staggering hunger, my own fangs pushed themselves down. The only way to describe the sensation was to compare it to that beautiful pain that precedes orgasm.

I had seen his fangs before. Their image was seared into my last clear memory: he had bitten me on my funeral pyre. I chose life and he gave it to me somehow... I chose life, at least in part, because I had not yet avenged my family's murders.

"It is time to hunt. Eric, you will heed every command I give you, even though it may not be in your nature to do so. Do you understand?" Godric asked me seriously.

I nodded, barely hearing his instructions after the word "hunt."  _I am so thirsty_ , was all I could think.

"Eric." He waited until I focused my eyes and attention on him. "You will feed from humans. Their blood gives us our life. Do you accept this?"

Another deluge of thirst, this time augmented by an image of tearing into the neck of my father's killer, had my answer surging from my throat. "Yes, fully." I said this with glee in my eyes, but I kept my body still.

Godric contemplated me for a long moment. "You are quite controlled for one who is newly risen. I knew I made the right choice when I saw you on the battlefield. You will learn quickly."

I had a momentary fear that he would continue to delay our hunt, forcing my thirst to become more agonizing. Then, he flashed another fangy grin and ran like the wind towards the east.

I drew in a sharp breath, not understanding yet that my body did not require it, and watched Godric disappear into the deep woods.  _The cloaked master of the wolves had moved like that!_  I sped after Godric.  _I can move like this!_  I was filled with questions that Godric must answer; questions so burning that they nearly suppressed my hunger.

The moonlight barely penetrated the thick cover of the trees here, but still my footfalls were sure. I could not see Godric's path, but his scent drew me after him. He smelled salty and like foreign, aromatic wood smoke. Both scents were mouthwatering and comforting, nearly nourishment themselves.

As I ran, my confidence grew. Before this, I was an accomplished tracker with great endurance for long hunts. Tonight I felt invincible and more capable than ever before to find my prey. My blood was being pulled like the tide to the shore. The trees thinned, and there was Godric. He was crouched in the flickering shadows outside a small encampment. I silently joined him, desperate to satisfying my cravings.

"The bloodlust will take you tonight," Godric said quietly. "I will allow this, but know that each night after this one you will learn to control your hunger until you become its master."

I looked in his eyes and saw the truth (and the open threat of his dominance) there. The scent of the people around the campfire had crept into my senses, so I nodded assent to Godric and hoped he would give his permission to begin. A small voice, far in the back of my mind, called for compassion and mercy for these people. I ignored it and became an animal for the night.

We silently picked off a pair of women from the darkened edge of the camp. Godric looked into their eyes and they became silent and compliant. With no shame for what was to come, we dragged them into the woods and I took my first sip of human blood, my first bite of human flesh. I could not stop, gulping mouthful after mouthful of their warm blood, and both women died at my fangs. I was remorseless in my first kill as a vampire. The experience was revelatory, and I knew I had been reborn!

My grateful eyes met Godric's. He looked back at me, and then at my bloodied mouth. I could see lust flaring in his eyes. My blood felt as though it was pressing against the inside of my skin, reaching for him.

"Thank you," I whispered. I wanted him to be happy in his decision to make me Vampire.

Godric nodded in acknowledgment of my thanks, and said, "The night is just beginning, Eric. Your new life is just beginning." He gripped my upper arm in a sign of affection and solidarity, just like I had with the men I fought alongside. When I was human.

His gesture had me transfixed. I was absolutely thankful to him, and I was desperate to make him know the depth of it. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I did not know what the right ones would be. His eyes were locked on mine, and again it felt like my blood was leaping towards him.

With another squeeze of my arm, he turned again to the camp. I followed his lead. Immediately one of the men caught my eye. Although I did not turn to face Godric, I knew he had given me permission to hunt his man. My performance was being watched.

I stopped for a moment at the edge of the trees, gauging the surroundings and my prey's location relative to the other men. This man looked distinctly like the branded wolf-man who died at my sword the night my family was killed. I was next to him in the blink of an eye, looking him over as he tried to retreat in surprise. I snarled at him, baring my fangs. He could see clearly the blood smeared across my bare body and dripping from my mouth, and he was scared. I reveled in his terror, letting it wash over me in pulsing waves. I could feel the air around him reverberate with his fluttering heartbeat. I imagined it was the wolf-man that I was intimidating.

Bloodlust made me vicious. I pounced on the man before he could utter a sound, sinking my fangs into his flesh and tearing it away. Blood spewed forth from his already dead corpse, bathing me in warmth. But I did not stop.

I could no longer clearly picture my family's faces even though the wolf-men killed them less than two years ago. My rage at this loss blinded me and I tore apart the body in my hands, flinging parts as far as I could throw them into the dark with a terrible roar.

The remaining humans began to scatter or take up arms when they heard my terrifying yell. Neither was a barrier for Godric nor me, and the chase increased my passions further. I was insatiable. Godric and I drained and killed at least a dozen more people that night, I lost count. The feel of their blood in my mouth, across my fangs... Indescribable!

Then, there was silence except for the crackling of the fire. I was wet with blood. It made my skin slick. Godric emerged from the far side of the camp's large tent, and he was similarly coated in blood. The firelight flickered across him, and I contemplated his tattoos for the first time. The marks were ancient, but their outlines were still sharp on his vampire skin. The tattoos were obviously those given to a man of importance. I hoped a warrior, like me. While his body looked younger than mine, he was maturely muscled and his contours were highlighted by the blood.

I was drawn to him, and we met in front of the fire. There were no words for his beauty in this moment. All I could do was inhale his scent. He gazed upon me, making my lust rise again. I was still driven by my primal hungers: I had fed and fought, but...

He put a hand to the back of my neck and roughly pulled my mouth to his. The tantalizing taste of our prey was still present on his lips. I desperately clung to him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing him appetizingly close. Our tongues were cut many times by our clashing fangs. The pain and pleasure mingled like our blood in our mouths and on our lips. His was a familiar taste and I wanted to devour every drop. The blood on our skin made our naked bodies glide across one another, and the feeling drew a moan from my lips. I was not troubled by the fact that Godric was male; I loved our sameness.

For a time, we were lost to our frenzied lust.

Later, the earth felt like it was pulling me back into its embrace. I looked to Godric, who was pink and healthy looking from all of the blood. "I feel like I want to lay in the earth again, Godric," I said questioningly.

"The dawn approaches," he replied. "You cannot see it again, Eric, without dying in flames. The darkness will always draw you in when the sunrise is imminent."

I felt a moment of melancholy. Quietly, Godric was chest to chest with me. "That is what I miss the most, the feel of the sun's warmth on my skin," he whispered.

Solidarity again. It was comforting and I could let go of that wistful feeling for now. Together we dug our resting place for the day.

"There is still some time," Godric said. "Come." I knelt next to him, our knees touching as we faced each other.

"Eric, what were you thinking about when you rent that man into so many pieces tonight? While it was a beautiful display of power," he smirked, "it was surprisingly violent. Even for a newborn vampire."

I was stunned silent by his perceptiveness.

"Remember what I told you earlier: you will obey my commands. Now I want you to answer my question." Godric compelled me to respond.

"He looked like someone I hate," I said.

"Yes?" Godric said. It was a command to elaborate, and there was no reason to prolong this. Godric would know.

"He looked like one of the wolf-men that murdered my family a few years ago. I have been trying to find them to avenge my family's deaths. My men and I finally found them when you found me, and many of my friends died... When I saw the man tonight, I could not control my rage and I needed to destroy him," I said intensely.

Godric looked thoughtful for a few moments. "What else are you not telling me?"

I had left out many small details because they seemed irrelevant. But there was one big detail. "He had a brand on his neck. A rune."

Godric looked at me sharply. He looked enraged, but the emotion passed quickly and it was replaced by a softer look. He pulled me into a paternal embrace. "I will help you find the Weres. We will do this together. As long as it takes."

I pulled back and looked into his eyes, my own were swimming with emotion. I was so grateful to Godric for this pledge. "My new life... as a Vampire," I spoke haltingly. "Our speed, my senses. They are...  _more_. The wolf-men had a master and he moved like this."

"Yes. I have heard rumors," Godric said; he sounded disgusted. He laid his forehead against mine. "We will do this together," he said again and I knew it to be the truth.

As we pulled the dirt over ourselves and the sky lightened, Godric and I fell into an embrace.

 

****

**_Tenochtitlan, 1521_ **

 

Godric and I made the month-long journey to the New World on board a Spanish ship. We only survived because we were so old (Godric was nearly 1600 and I was over 500). At those ages we required less blood. Fortunate, because a sea voyage dictates a limited food supply.

For the sole purpose of arranging our travel, I had cultivated a pet for several months. He was the ship captain, no less, and he was madly in love with me. To a swarthy Spaniard, tall and blonde is a cool drink of water. I admit that I was quite callous; I let him believe I loved him too. Today I do not even recall his name.

Discretion was paramount, since we were confined and vulnerable for more than twelve hours a day. Our discovery would have meant our final deaths. The captain would have permitted Godric and I to stay in his cabin, but it was more convenient for us to stay in the ship's hold. Boarding there meant we had quick access to the sleeping crew. We could easily divert a man or two, glamour him, and feed without anyone seeing us. The humans' resulting weakness was simply attributed to the long voyage.

All hours that were not spent feeding were spent in hiding with only our thoughts to occupy us. One might think that a month is fleeting to a Vampire...

Although it had been many, many decades back and a very different kind of vessel, I knew how to sail. The low latitude winds were warm, not sharp and cold like those of my youth, but they still carried the familiar saltiness. Memories of my family and long-dead human friends monopolized my mind. That made the unending hours of confinement in the cargo hold colossally frustrating. Particularly in light of the reason for our travel: We were once again on the Weres' trail.

Godric and I could whisper if we were cautious.

"Eric, what will you do when your quest is complete?" Godric asked.

Light from a lantern crept in through the unlatched lid of our crate. In the semi-darkness, I could make out his face. It bore curiosity, yes, but I could also make out a hint of concern. I blinked at him.

"I will simply be done with the quest," I replied matter-of-factly. That portion of my existence will be done. That will be that.

"Hm," Godric said. He could be so infuriating sometimes!

"Just say what you are thinking, Godric," I said. Annoyance had crept into my voice.

Godric looked at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously unhappy with my tone. "Eric." Now he was the one with the tone. "You have been searching for these Weres and their Master since before I made you."

He stopped as if that was all he had to say. As if I would suddenly understand the moral of his story.

"Yes. And when I find them, I will kill them and be done," I said again.

Godric was becoming exasperated, I could feel it in my blood and see it on his face. "I will be explicit: What you are on is an immortal's quest for vengeance. This has festered within you longer than a human lifetime, longer than many human lifetimes. It has festered within you for longer than many  _Vampires_ live. It has consumed your thoughts and it drives nearly every action you take. I am simply being practical when I ask you what you will fill your life with after your quest for revenge is satisfied."

Frankly, I had never considered that and I told Godric as much.

"You need to think about that, Eric, because this quest alone is not the destiny the Norns gave you," Godric concluded.

After that, there was nothing else to say. He latched our crate closed and we died for the day.

We rose the following night to sounds of the ship being unloaded. The captain arrived in the hold to tell us we had arrived in Villa Rica de Vera Cruz. He sheepishly looked around for witnesses and, seeing none, threw himself into my arms. It was clear that he wanted to carry on with the farce of a relationship we had. However, now that we had arrived on land and we could take up our hunt again, I had no use for a pet. With a sneer, I pushed him off of me. Godric and I briskly disembarked and were absorbed by the port's crowds.

After an efficient feed and fuck to refuel ourselves from the long journey, we headed inland. We crossed more than one hundred miles of hot jungle and freezing mountains that first night. Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital, was less than a night's journey further to the west. From what we had heard, the city had already seen skirmishes with the Spanish forces and their vicious fighting dogs. What little I knew of the Aztecs told me that their civilization was exactly what the Were's Master enjoyed destroying.

The following night started well. We quickly crossed the mesa toward Tenochtitlan. The moon was nearly full, meaning the Weres would be prowling and we would certainly find their scent soon.

Suddenly Godric stopped short. Before I could ask why, I smelled it too. The most indescribably wonderful smell; definitely NOT Weres. My fangs snicked down of their own accord. I looked to Godric and the hunger in his eyes matched mine.

"What...?" I could barely speak, my thirst was so acute. Rational thought was leaving me in a way I had not felt for hundreds of years, making way for an all-encompassing hunger.

"Fairy," Godric choked out. "So delicious," he whispered.

Our search for the Weres was pushed far into the recesses of my mind. I had a single focus now, and it was finding, fucking, and draining this fairy. Godric concurred; in a flash, he was tracking the scent to the north. Humans often say their favorite smells are food-related. I suppose most vampires would say the same (also, sex), and this fairy smelled like the purest, most luscious dessert of blood. I was a newborn Vampire again, because all I knew was  _this_ hunt for  _this_ blood.

For hours we hunted. The only being we encountered was a single human herdsman and our bloodlust left him drained within moments. All of his blood did not dull the edge of my thirst, and I was becoming more and more frustrated. Every time the beautiful smell grew in intensity and I was sure we would finally capture our elusive dinner, it dissipated again. By the third hour, I was sure we were being toyed with.

Finally, in a copse of copal trees in a shallow valley, we found him. Or perhaps he let us find him.

"You will not drain me, Vampires," the hidden voice said.

A flash of light made our feet slide on the earth, as though we were leaning into a tremendous wind. After that, the scent was gone.  _Or was masked._  The male fairy emerged from among the trees and we froze in a standoff. He wore colorful feathers in his black hair and paint around his eyes. His muscled chest was bare, and his browned skin looked inviting and warm.

"Why are you here?" he asked us.

My savage bloodlust had begun to abate with the disappearance of his scent. As rational thought returned, I was disgusted at myself for losing total control like that. I felt it through my blood, too; Godric had spent years helping me to master my thirst, and he was just as upset at his own lack of self-control. Although I was still very curious to taste a fairy (his shimmering skin was so tempting), I managed to respond to the fairy's question with some dignity.

"We are hunting Weres," I said. That was enough information to probe whether he was friend or foe.

His eyes were piercing as they focused on me and then on Godric.

"The ones with the symbol?" He asked, gesturing to his neck.

I concentrated on  _not_ looking at Godric lest it give away too much of our quest. We still did not know if this fairy could be an ally.

"Your silence is your answer," the fairy said. "They have been seen in my Master's altepetl... his capital city... and they are not there peacefully. Why are you hunting them?"

"Why is not important," I said with finality. "Who is your Master?"

"Huitzilopochtli. He reigns in Tenochtitlan."

"How did he come to have a fairy in his employ?" Godric asked suspiciously. Fairies were not usually mercenaries.  _Does this imply that Huitzilopochtli is a supe too?_   _Another fairy?_

"How is not important," he said with a pointed look, throwing my words back at me. "Quetzalcoatl and Xolotl will decimate the city."

Of course we did not know those names and our blank faces reflected as much.

"The people believe the Spaniard Cortés is the reincarnation of the god Quetzalcoatl come to vanquish Huitzilopochtli. Quetzalcoatl's brother is the dog-man Xolotl, the god of bad luck. The Weres - the people think they are seeing Xolotl because the Weres have been audacious enough to transform in the open. Many of the humans believe they will be defeated and their lack of resolve is making the city's resistance weak. I am afraid the city will be overtaken and that few will be left alive."

"We are not here to save Tenochtitlan. It is not our concern. We are here to kill the Weres and their Master," I stated plainly.

The fairy looked at me, assessing my words. Finally he nodded. "Yes. I accept your offer of help."

Despite the fairy's deliberate misunderstanding of me (and that his blood was still in his veins and not on my fangs), I was quite pleased. The fairy would give us the information we needed to find the Weres. If we made an ally by incidentally saving his city, all the better.

"I will find you tomorrow night on the east side of Tenochtitlan. I am Payinal, Huitzilopochtli's emissary. I will tell Master that you are coming," the fairy said and, with another flash of light, he was gone. All that remained was his unmasked scent, taunting us.

****

We rose from the earth just minutes after sundown. A pink glow still peeked over the mesa for a few moments. I felt my lip curl and a growl build in my chest. Each time I caught a glimpse of that last reminder of the sun, I was doused in my anger for the branded Weres. The last day my skin had been touched by the sun was the first day I met them in battle, but it was when they killed my family that the sun had really set on me.

Each night was another step toward vengeance, sometimes an aggravatingly small step. We had been following this trail of blood for so long and it was past time for it to be over. Tonight I was itching to fight. We were so close to our enemies that their putrid scent was on the air.

Godric gave me an intense look. He felt the ferocity in my blood and was feeding off of it. My rage threatened to boil over and send me lurching into battle prematurely.

"Not yet." Godric put his hands on my shoulders when he spoke. We barely needed to talk. Five hundred years of fighting alongside one another meant we each knew what the other was thinking. When he touched me, I had such a blinding upsurge of energy I didn't know if I might tear him apart or fuck him. Like always, though, Godric's presence stilled me enough to consider a plan. (He always deferred to me when it came to this revenge quest except when I was about to do something particularly unwise.) While I thought, I oiled my sword in preparation for what I hoped was coming. Payinal made it clear last night that he had information about the Weres and their Master. Tonight we would get it from him.

The massive temple rising in the center of Tenochtitlan was lit by torches and throngs of people pressed toward it. Subconsciously finding each escape route and strategic attack point, we passed south of the temple to meet Payinal on the east side of the city. We smelled him before we saw him. Perhaps he allowed it so we could easily find him among the teeming humans. When he emerged from the crowd, we immediately saw that he was... not well. His skin looked dull and mud caked his hair.

"Vampires," he nodded nervously to each of us while his scent dissipated. He was restless and his eyes darted around, never meeting our own. "Tonight is Huitzilopochtli's festival. It  _must_ happen, it  _must_ happen. But the Spaniards and their dogs have gathered. What will they do? What will happen? What? You must fight for us. Kill them  _tonight_ , I beg you, I beg you." He said all of this in a single, crazed breath.

"Do you not have others, Fairy? Other fairies or shifters of your own?" Godric asked him somewhat indignantly. He was thinking, just as I was, that Payinal seemed woefully underprepared and unorganized.

"Assassinated. Or aligned with the enemies. Or gone to the mountains," he replied desperately. His voice had crescendoed nearly to screeching.

"Fairy!" I roared inches from his face. "We do not care about this. I told you last night, we are not here to save you or these humans. Just tell us what you know about the Weres' Master!" I felt the night for a moment and spoke again, "There are less than eleven hours before we must go to ground, and I strongly want to complete this tonight."

Payinal looked totally cowed. Having never met another fairy, I did not know if they were easily intimidated but I felt like his behavior was strange.

"Yes," he said, resigned. Suddenly, his whole body shivered. Then his back straightened and he looked strong, having apparently rid himself of his nervous energy. His eyes stilled, but they were clouded and distant. The abrupt change in his demeanor was bizarre. "Go to the central temple to speak with Huitzilopochtli." A hollow, emotionless look detracted from his otherwise beautiful face. Then, with a weak flash that could have been a torch flicker, he was gone.

After a moment's pause, I turned to Godric. "What is going on here? That seemed... off."

"Yes," Godric nodded. A concerned look darkened his face. "I cannot say it with certainty, but I think his magic smelled different tonight."

I sniffed at the air. It was so muddled with humans, torch smoke, and the faintest trace of delicious fairy scent that I could not make any conclusions.

"A few years before I made you, I met a fairy. I did not learn anything about fairies from her except how delicious their blood is," Godric said with a telling look. "I have met only one other, many years ago when I was very young. He was powerful and secretive." I could tell there was a story there, but it would have to wait until another night.

Payinal's worthlessness tonight had my passions and sensibilities warring. I thirsted to attack the Weres  _now_ , but I  _never_ went into battle with so little preparation! My mind flitted to Godric's instruction for me to consider what I will do when this quest is complete. I still had no answer so I put the question out of my head.

"We have to do as Payinal instructed: go to the temple," Godric concluded.

In our dark cloaks, we were invisible against the night sky as I flew us to the shrine at the temple's top. We passed into the shadows inside the entrance, but were immediately faced with armed guards. They each had two swords, one of which had a silver blade. The faintest hint of that sweet scent identified them as fairies.

With fangs out I said, "Payinal sent us to speak with Huitzilopochtli."

The guards gave no response.

"I do not have time for this! Stand aside or I will drain you," I commanded them. Godric put a hand on my arm.

A low voice wafted from deeper in the shrine. "There is no need for violence on the Festival Day. Allow the visitors to pass."

The guards separated, giving us access. Their eyes never left us. Godric pushed aside the heavy curtain and we entered the stone room. I had to duck my head because the ceiling was so low. A wide skylight let out the smoke from a fire in the center of the room.

I could feel Godric's surprise in my blood as we approached the man and I did not particularly like it. Being caught by surprise was never something I preferred.

"You are Huitzilopochtli?" Godric asked quietly.

"Godric." He acknowledged Godric as if they'd met before. "And this is your Viking." He looked at me appraisingly. The speaker was old, but he had a timeless, unwrinkled appearance including long, pale hair not unlike mine. His skin was luminous, but there was no scent of fairy other than from the guards. I could only assume he was able to mask his smell like Payinal had.

"This is your name now?" Godric asked rhetorically. "What are you doing here?"

"It was time to be with the humans," the man answered cryptically.

I interrupted the reunion. "Payinal told us to come here to get information on the branded Weres and their Master. We are here to kill them. Then we will leave." The immediacy of the fight had made me restless and impatient. I paced the small room.

"Payinal told you to come here? Where did you see him? How did he seem? He has not been here for quite some time."

Godric and I shared a concerned look. Something was definitely not right. Was Payinal working for another? His change in demeanor... was he being controlled? On alert now, I began another survey of the shrine's exit routes. There were only two: the entrance and the skylight.

Godric finally answered. "We chased him on the mesa last night, and tonight we saw him on the east side of the city. He was unkempt tonight and his magic smelled different."

The blonde man let out a sigh and put his head in his hand, massaging his own forehead. Outside, the sounds of the festival were rising. We could hear chanting and yelling.

"There is a strong history of magic here. The witches and naguals have been friendly to us, but I have never been certain of where their loyalties lie. If they have sided with the intruders and cursed Payinal..."

Huitzilopochtli was unable to finish before we heard the sounds of fighting outside the shrine's door. The festival sounds were no longer joyous; humans were screaming.

"They have come to us!" I exclaimed quietly.  _This makes our task easier! The Weres came to us!_  I drew my sword from its sheath on my back, but there was no way to get a good fighting stance in this small room.

At the entrance, the fairy guards' swords were flashing in the firelight as they pushed back the first wave of attackers from the shrine entrance. Grunts of pain and howls from the dying wolves echoed in the chamber. There was no way past the growing pile of bodies to get to the battle.

"Godric! This way," I called to my maker. We vaulted through the skylight onto the roof of the temple. All around us, the battle was raging. A steady stream of attackers was climbing the temple steps, heading to Huitzilpochtli's room. I ignored the humans and focused on the Weres. There may have been hundreds of them; it was incredible that so many had been recruited by their Master. I knew they would be strong, but I was stronger.

Godric looked at me with a great, fangy grin of excitement for the killing that we were about to do. I was not gleeful; I was the personification of wrath: seething, deadly, and indiscriminate.

"Mitt löfte till dig, Fader!" With a great Viking battle roar, I leapt into combat. The first round of Weres and humans stood no chance against my sword and my fangs. Seven fell in crimson pieces, scattered across the stone steps. Four were left in a mutilated heap at Godric's feet. Behind me, a yell of agony signaled the fairy guards' end at the Weres' claws. A flash of light came from within the shrine. I spared a thought to wonder if Huitzilopochtli had departed safely or in distress.

 _We have to find the Weres' Master without the fairy's counsel._ If I had not been enraged before, this loss of a lead made me so. I started hacking at the dead bodies by our feet, just wanting to hurt something!

"Eric! They are coming from there." Godric pointed north of the temple. A steady stream of Weres and humans was crossing the causeway. Maybe this night could be salvaged if we traced them back to their camp.

We abandoned our cloaks and ran down the temple's incline. My sword sang as I descended, lopping off enemy body parts as I went. Godric was faster than any Vampire I had ever known, and he moved in a blur to the bridge's entrance. At least a dozen humans and wolves died at Godric's strong, efficient hands and cruel fangs before I reached him. (The sight was distinctly arousing. I took the briefest moment to admire him before I joined in the fight.) Together Godric and I mowed down another twenty-six humans and Weres. We let the bodies pile up to slow the attackers' route into the city.

I crushed Godric to my chest, feeling his excitement pressed against me. We flew into the sky like a cannon shot. I groaned when I felt him lick our enemies' blood off of my neck. Within seconds we were on the other side of the teeming causeway. Fangs gleaming, I plunged us back into the melee. The hot stench of Were blood was everywhere.

A monstrous, black Were crouched to attack me. As he launched himself, I caught him with the tip of my sword. So much like the first Were I killed...

My sword pierced his shoulder, pinning him to the ground. His howl became a scream as his body returned to human form. I severed his hands and his legs below the knees, and then I grabbed him and flew into the night air.

"Who is your Master?" I screamed in the Were's face, but all I got from him in response was a silent scream of pain.

"Tell me, and I will heal you  _with my blood_ ," I claimed, emphasizing every word. The scar tissue of his brand was gleaming white against his filthy skin.

He panted a reply. "Please, please, some blood. I will tell you. Master gives us the blood." I was right. The Were was an addict.

"Who is your Master?" I yelled again. The Were was fading fast as his blood rained down onto the battle below.

"Not here. He's not here. Only the Greek. If I tell you Master's name the Greek will kill me. Please, you must save me!" His voice was no more than a whisper.

"I make no promises to you, dog. Who is your Master? Who is the Greek?"

By then it was too late. The Were's eyes finally closed and his heartbeat slowed to a stop as his body emptied of blood. I roared in frustration! I threw the pathetic corpse down onto my enemies, using the dead body as a weapon.

"NO!" I yelled to the sky. I repeated this interrogation with another eight Weres, and the answer was the same each time: their Master was not at this battle and the Greek was in charge. Back on the ground I hacked and slashed my way to the center of their camp, desperate to find a sign of him.

As dawn approached, Godric gripped my arm as I raised it to stab another enemy. "Come. It is time," he said softly.

I pulled out of his grip and finished that last Were with a sneer. Then I turned with Godric and we ran to the west, finding shelter for the day, but not satisfaction.

 

****

_**London, 1905** _

 

"Eric, look at me," Godric said softly.

I was restlessly pacing our hotel room, frustrated because we had lost the trail of the branded Weres again. It never ended, this fucking quest. I had killed hundreds, if not thousands, of these brainwashed, ignorant, violent Werewolves and I still was so far away from learning their Master's identity. Never once since the night he killed my family had I even a glimpse of him! There was no rest to be had until he was dead. All I could think about were the possibilities for regaining their scent and following it to a bloody fucking completion. Nothing less would suffice.

"Eric. Eric, look at me. Eric!" Godric's voice was still low, but it finally pierced my focus. He had put a little extra energy into the request for my attention this time, and I felt a twinge of pain in my blood. My feet promptly stopped their pacing and gave him a sour look.

"You did not need to force me like that, Master," I addressed him with anger in my voice, particularly using his title snidely, even though it would cost me.

"Stop this. Sit down." The forcefulness in Godric's voice was something he infrequently directed at me. This time my blood did not compel me to obey, his tone did. I found the edge of the bed and sat silently.

Godric sighed when he looked at me. The anger I felt from him seconds ago dissipated.

"Eric, look into my eyes when I tell you this. Feel what I am saying in our blood," he said. His voice sounded... sad. And tired. I was suddenly worried and very alert.

"It has been eight hundred and seventy three years since I made you. Except for a handful of them, we have spent every night hunting and every day dead in each other's arms. You know how atypical it is for a Vampire to stay with his maker for this long," Godric said. My blood was ringing in my veins with what I dreaded he might say next. "It is time for us to part, Eric. It is..."

I interrupted, raging at the top of my lungs, "NO! Godric, NO! Why is that a good idea? You said you would stay as long as it takes to avenge my family!" I sounded like a child, but I could not make myself be rational now.

He sat next to me on the bed so our shoulders were touching, and I felt him sigh. This gesture added to my unsettled feeling since he was not one for unnecessary movements. We sat in silence for a few minutes; my hands gripped the mattress harder and harder as I waited for him to say anything at all. I finally understood that Godric was waiting to feel that I was ready, and that I was listening to our bond.

"Listen to me in your blood. Please, listen to me. I cannot stay with you anymore, Eric. I am afraid I am holding you back from the destiny that the Norns wove. And I need some time on my own to think about the way I have spent my life."

I wanted to protest, but the look of pain and longing in his eyes was enough to stop me.

"All you see is your rage for your family. When I promised to help you, I meant it. But I admit that I thought it would be a short hunt to find the one who murdered them or that you would lose interest. Most vampires forget so quickly about what mattered to them during their human lives. You are so different, Eric. You have kept your human father's dying command closer to your heart than any other thing. Even me. Right now all you let yourself feel is this overwhelming rage and need for vengeance, but you have the potential for so much more. I can feel it deep down in your blood, and the Norns foretold it."

He turned to face me, and I searched his eyes for any hint of what I could do to make him stay.

He touched my lips with his thumb and whispered, "I thought it was at least partly for me, but maybe not." Then he was silent.

I fell to my knees in front of him, grasping at his hands. "Wait, Godric, please, what did the Norns say? What did you think was for you? I would give you anything, you know this. I would do anything for you. Please stay." I was begging him, shamelessly begging. "I do not understand what I am supposed to do."

"You have to learn how to be more than this all-consuming quest for revenge. If you do not, it will bring you to your final death."

Godric rose and walked toward the door. I was on the verge of panic, something I never feel. He is leaving NOW? Not now!

"Wait!" I reached for him, but he held up his hand. The pain I was feeling was reflected on his face.  _We are both in agony! How can he bear this?_

"Eric, do not follow me now. We will see each other again, I promise you. But first I want you to carefully consider becoming a maker. You only feel this rage now, but if you make another..."

He looked at me so deeply then.

"You will understand when you become a maker what I am saying to you now," Godric said with a nod, almost as if he was convincing himself of his statement's truth. He opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Before he closed it again, he looked back once more. "You don't understand how to say it yet, but know I love you, Eric."

Then he was gone.

 

****

**_Manchuria, 1931_ **

 

It was bitterly cold, and the humans huddled around small fires. After many years hunting, I found it easier to find supes in situations like this. They simply acted (and truly felt) less cold. Weres were particularly easy to spot since they ran so hot. Tonight the steam would be rolling off their vile bodies.

Pam and I drifted amongst the Russians. It was easy to blend with them. Finland, my homeland's neighbor, was currently under Russian control, so our physical appearance was unremarkable. Although Pam did not know it, I had tracked the branded Weres here. They were aligned with the Japanese, but I did not know how to infiltrate that side considering my blond, two meter frame. Just like in Constantinople, I was stuck watching from afar.

Despite the darkness, volleys of artillery fire pierced the Russian line. They were followed by flank attacks by sword- and rifle-wielding soldiers. Among them were dogs.

"Come!" I commanded Pam.

We plunged into the fight, using our speed to catch the soldiers off-guard. Pam reveled in each kill. Her eyes were wide and her beautiful mouth was trailing blood. She moved like a dancer, light on her feet and leaping elegantly from one poor soul to the next. She was perfectly vicious, but still so young.

I had particular prey in mind. The humans and their weapons were of no concern to me. None of them were silver-tipped and the pain was irrelevant when the bullets caught my flesh. I sought the wolves. I jumped high into the night air. The moonlight lit the distinctive clouds of steam above a handful of the fighters and dogs. I chose one and dove at him. I ripped at his tendons, making his arms and legs useless.

"Your Master, where is he?" I growled in Russian.

In a heavily accented tongue, he replied, "You should kill me now, Vampire. I will not tell you."

I dragged his useless body to the frozen river and thrust him under the ice to die.

Another and another met their death. These weren't the Weres of Europe. These were Japanese inugami; wily and dangerous Weres. They had the reputation of being skilled in war, not relying only on their strength to win battles.

I needed one more.  _The next one would have to talk._ This war would be over by tomorrow's sundown and another chance at the Were's Master would be lost.

Steam rolled off a blood-smeared wolf. It charged at a group of disorganized Russian soldiers, but I plucked it off its feet and flew into the sky.

"Shh," I said smoothly, choosing a new tactic. "I have blood for you."

The wolf's fangs snapped at my arm, but I firmly held the scruff of its neck. "You must change. I will not tolerate your fangs on my flesh, wolf." The animal convulsed in my arms before becoming an intriguingly beautiful woman.

She spoke to me in German surprisingly. "Master sent you. For me?"

"Yes. I watched the battle. Your fighting deserved a reward," I lied.

"I have not seen you with him," she said suspiciously. Wily, indeed.

I raised my eyebrow at her. "And? A man that you call Master would not share everything with you, correct?"

She nodded, but still appeared cautious.

"Are you  _expecting_  something in return for your gift of blood? I am not interested in... men," she sneered.

I laughed uproariously. "As you wish," I said, sending a silent summons to Pam as I flew us toward the city.

One house was as good as the next. Pam joined us at the door of one and kicked it down. The occupants' screams were quickly silenced in standard Vampire fashion. Pam blotted at her face with a cloth while she admired the naked woman I had gripped in my fist.

"For me?" Pam's Russian was poor, but I doubted the inugami knew the difference.

I answered in German, because I wanted the wolf to understand. "Yes, she deserves a reward for her battle skills." I discreetly winked at Pam. I was treading on uncertain ground since I had never told her about my quest. Now was not the time, but perhaps soon.

The wolf looked at me as I faded into the room's shadows. "Tell Master thank you," she said to me with a glint in her eyes. Pam gave me an excited look too. She thought I was bringing her a plaything to fuck, torture, and drain. I simply hoped their pillowtalk would be useful.

Pam preened a bit and walked slowly toward the woman. "I am not partial to wolves, but you are pretty as a flower, aren't you?" She ran her hand through the woman's long black hair, tucking it behind her shoulders. I saw the brand there, hiding behind the strands of hair.

They stood closer to one another, sniffing. "Mmmm. I do not usually take such a cold partner. But with hair like gold... and your eyes are like the sea. Very exotic," she whispered against Pam's neck.

Without further small talk, their bodies wrapped around one another in the sinuous way only two women can. I did not appreciate the scene. Not tonight when there was so little time before dawn. I was relieved when the wolf spoke again.

"Why did we not go to Master's camp at the Fuling Tomb?" She continued on with her ministrations to Pam's willing body. By now Pam's clothes were in a heap on the table and the two of them were writhing on the floor. I was relieved when she ignored the wolf's question in favor of thrusting her fingers into her body.

I had what I needed and had resolved to kill the inugami when Pam did it for me. I saw the wolf's mouth change into one filled with fangs, and she lunged at Pam's breast for the falsely promised blood reward. Pam was far too fast, snapping her neck before the teeth even scraped her skin.

"What the fuck was that?"

The vexing dawn came within minutes and we had to die for the day under the house's floorboards. Despite knowing where he had been, the Were's Master was in the wind by the time we rose.

 

****

**_Shreveport, present day_ **

 

"Eric, are you trying to change the subject away from Sookie? You are risking your life and mine if you don't  _use her_ to stop Edgington!"

"I am, in fact, not changing the subject." I paused, knowing that it would only take a split second for Pam to understand.

The rant she was building to was extinguished in a blink. "Edgington was behind the Battle of Mukden? That wolf with the nice ass?" Pam asked in disbelief.

"Yes, and the rest of the Russo-Japanese war, but I did not know his name then. You were quite effective against his wolf. She was the last of the Honshū wolves; now they are extinct." Despite my attempt to placate her, Pam looked ready to argue more about how I had camouflaged our real reason for being there. I continued before she had the chance to verbally launch herself. "Then, when you moved to Los Angeles in 1942, I reunited with Godric to infiltrate the German army in search of him."

I felt her dismay at being excluded so I continued my confession. "Only Godric knew about my reason for hunting the Weres. I told him on the night I rose. Like I said yesterday, I considered the death of my family to be my burden alone. When I turned you I got a fierce fighter, but I am admitting now that you have a keen sense for strategy too. Tonight particularly, your planmaking complements mine when I have... too many variables. It took Godric releasing me and then me turning you to begin to realize... It was not until yesterday that I realized that my obsession harms the ones I care about. I should have told you about my quest a long time ago."

Pam was silent, searching my face and our blood for what to say. Finally she settled on, "DAMN RIGHT! You can be a selfish bastard! I am goddamned GREAT at that shit, and I sure as  _fuck_  would have given up Betty Grable's snatch for it! You are an idiot!" She was poking me in the chest repeatedly to emphasize her annoyance.

By the end of that rant, both of us were smiling.

"Pam, listen to me," I said, bringing back the serious tone of our conversation. "I do not want to go to my final death. Even with Godric gone, I have people to live for. You, Pam." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A vignette from Godric's POV. Assembled from _Sigh No More_ , originally published at ff.net and inspired by the Mumford and Sons album of the same name.

 

_I'll find strength in pain_   
_And I will change my ways_   
_I'll know my name as it's called again_

****

_**Bavaria, 931** _

The Were's claws slid into my flesh, scraping to the bone of my arm. I hissed at the stinging pain and ripped the beast's throat out in an efficient motion. He was dead before he hit the ground. I sneered at the corpse as it transformed back into its human form while I held a hand over my wound. I had no remorse, and the pain was already receding.

"Godric!" Eric yelled. His voice was a panicked roar. He was still too young to understand how easily an old vampire can heal; the extent of the injuries they can recover from. Maybe he would always be particularly sensitive to injuries inflicted by Weres, even after he'd forgotten about his human family over the long years.

Eric's quest to find the Weres that had murdered his family had taken us to Bavaria. He was an exceptional tracker, certainly better than I was as a newly turned Vampire, possibly better than I was now. Eric's focus was absolute and all-consuming. It was beautiful to see how powerful and deadly he was, but I hoped this quest would end soon so he could focus his attention elsewhere. It seemed like every day brought another little revelation from Eric: his dry wit; his facility with languages; the flash of his eyes when he caught the scent. I was proud of him.

This wolf pack did not have any ties to the crime, but Eric provoked them nonetheless. He was hot-headed when it came to this quest, and I was resolved to work on that with him. A Vampire must always have control of his emotions if he is to survive, I learned long ago. It was my duty as a Maker to give him the skills to survive without me. He'd surely leave my side eventually, although I didn't want to think about that time coming. I had chosen him without even realizing I wanted someone with me, and I simply couldn't fathom the idea of him leaving.

Eric grabbed my waist and began to run his hands all over my body, looking for injuries. He was panting slightly, a human habit he still hadn't outgrown. The gash on my arm was already substantially healed.

"Where are you hurt? We need to find you a human! Can you move?"

I smiled. "Eric, look at my arm. It's nearly healed. I'm fine." I stroked my hand down his arm, but the tension wasn't leaving his body.

Eric had been with me for nearly a year, and this was the first battle we'd had of any consequence. Eric had mastered his feeding urges over the first few months, although he still needed to feed daily. While he was learning, it was impossible to be far from a reliable food source. But as soon as I told him he was ready, he'd found the Weres' trail. He was still so young, and he'd never had occasion to see his companion injured in this manner. At least not since his fellow humans died in battle on the night I made him. Weres had been there that night too. Even as a human, Eric had somehow tracked them to that battle.

"Come sit with me," I said. It was just a gentle suggestion, not a command, so he hesitated. His eyes were rimmed with the red of blood tears.

"I thought you might be..."

"I'm not leaving you, Eric. Please, come." We sat on the soft ground, face-to-face, twining our legs together. I rested my hands on his hips and gestured again at my arm. Eric nodded curtly.

"If you had... What would I...?" Eric pushed a fierce exhale through his nose.

"Vampires will not die from such a wound. They may need to feed, but they will not die. I have told you many times the things that can kill us: fire, decapitation, and stakes through the heart."

I had studied Eric for every waking moment since I'd made him, and I recognized the subtle expression of fear lingering in his eyes. His shoulders were still so tense. He reached out and grabbed the back of my neck. I smiled a satisfied grin as he crushed his lips to mine.

"I will not be without you, Godric," Eric finally said. I felt a pang of melancholy when I imagined the time when he'd choose to leave me, when our passion had flamed out. I couldn't imagine the details, but I disliked the idea of it just the same.

"In some years, maybe many, many years, you will choose to leave my side. All Vampires leave their Makers eventually," I said.

Eric's face tightened. "Do you wish me to leave?"

"No, I do not wish that," I said softly. "You can feel my sincerity."

Eric looked for any sign of treachery on my face, and I felt him tug at the blood bond between us. Still with his hand on the back of my neck, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"You have never told me how you were made. Tell me now," Eric said. He would never lose his warrior's tongue, the one for commanding others to fall in line, and that was part of what kept my attention. Other Makers would not have tolerated it, but I encouraged it. His fire was something I'd wanted from the first moment I saw him.

I rested my hand on Eric's cheek, smiled, and began. 

 

****

_**Jutland, 108 BC** _

  
The last of my tattoos had healed finally, but occasionally they still itched. Sometimes I wondered if they itched for a reason. If it meant something mystical. I hadn't ever received proper training, so I could only guess. I squirmed against the rough fabric of my cloak as I trudged along the only high point through the bog.

Dawn crested gray and silent through the morning mist. I dragged a sledge of supplies for the ritual. Harvest this year had been paltry. The sea gave us the fish we needed, but our grains had been decimated by the drought. The village was desperate. I was heading into the valley to perform the rites. My adoptive village desperately needed a miracle and I was the shaman. They trusted me to fix this, and I owed them for taking me in when I fled my birth home 3 years ago.

Finally I reached the sacred place. The trees stood tall here, and it was nearly dark beneath them. I unpacked the sledge and set to work, starting a fire and adding the necessary things to the flames. I only knew the simple spells that my mother had taught me before I ran...

I meditated for a long time next to the smoke of the fire. I dreamt of friends from my old life, where we had worked together in the always abundant fields. Plants had always obeyed my wishes, growing full and lush under my hands. I wished for that bounty for my new friends, my new family.

Many hours passed, I could tell by the shadows coming through the trees when I emerged from my trance. I stood and stretched, pulling in a deep breath to clear my lungs of the fragrant smoke. I had just used the last of the cedar. It had come with me over all of those miles, shavings in a leather satchel. Somehow it seemed fitting to use the last of my supplies from my old life in a ceremony for my new one. It was bittersweet, but I smiled a little smile at the thought of breaking bread with my village when I returned tomorrow.

As the sun was nearly setting, I began the second part of the ritual. I pulled a knife from my pack and set to work. Suddenly, from behind me, there was a great rustling in the trees. I whipped around, knife in hand, only to be knocked unconscious by a well-aimed stone to the forehead.

I didn't know how long I was unconscious, but I woke after dark. My face was sticky with drying blood and my head was pounding with the pain. I laid still, trying to discern what was going on. I hadn't gotten any sort of look at my attacker earlier.

"Get up, witch," came a gruff voice. "I know you are awake. It's time for you to help us."

I was moving slowly. "Why would I help you?"

He owner of the voice, a huge, dirty man, grabbed my arm and dragged me to the treeline. "See over there? Your people are gone, and you are our witch now."

I could see the orange glimmer of flames on the horizon. "NO!" The village was burning, and I finally smelled the metallic scent of fresh blood on the hands that were gripping me.

Rage took me, and I clawed and kicked at the man. Despite his size, I managed to get in some good hits, but his equally as repulsive companion joined him and bound me hand and foot. They pulled me by my hair or my wrists, whatever they could reach that was most cruel and painful.

"You will finish the ritual, but for our people in our village."

"I will not," I hissed.

"If you do not, you will die."

"I will not."

They tied me to a tree and stood away to talk and, I assumed, to plot what to do with me. The rough bark cut into the skin of my legs as I tried to squirm free. The lashing tore into my wrists cruelly, and I felt my blood start to run down my forearms. My tattoos itched where my skin was pressed against the tree, and I suddenly had a horrifying vision of the dead in my village. Bodies were strewn across the ground as the earth drank their blood. None had been left alive, not even the children. I knew it was true and I felt a part of me die inside. Everything I loved was gone again.

I wasn't allowed to dwell on my sorrow when the man grabbed the back of my neck and ground my face into the tree. My teeth cut the inside of my mouth. Blood ran into my eyes from the reopened gash on my forehead. It stang and I tried to blink it away, but it was too much. There was too much blood. I had to close my eyes.

"Finish the ritual," the man growled.

"No," I sputtered through the blood in my mouth. He pounded my face against the tree, and my nose may have broken. Blood flooded the back of my throat, choking me.

They untied me from the tree and dragged me somewhere nearby as I coughed. I felt the coarseness of a rope tightening around my neck. I knew they were going to kill me then. I didn't cry out. There was no one left to come for me, but I kicked at them and bit when they got close.

Theirs was the first human blood I tasted. I felt murderous. If they hadn't bound me, I would have fought them to the death silently and without remorse. I know I would have ripped them apart with my teeth if I had been loose.

The rope pulled tight around my neck and I was hoisted onto my toes by its tension. My hands ached to undo the binding, but my wrists were bound behind my back. I struggled and raged through the blood in my mouth. I wanted to free myself and kill these men with my own hands! Great rivulets of my blood were trailing down my face, as if the noose was pressing all of it out of me. I gasped wetly for breath around the rope, but could get none.

"This is your last chance, witch. Do the ritual."

This is truly the end, I thought as I grew weaker. I wasn't going to help the people who slaughtered my new family. Not after what happened in my old life...

I heard my captor make a panicked noise and then there was silence.

"Don't give up hope, Godric," a familiar voice whispered in my ear. I thought I was having a vision as my soul walked toward death... It couldn't be him. He died before I left.

I felt the tension at my neck loosen, and I fell in a heap on the ground. Strong arms lifted me and it felt like we were flying. I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Godric, your human body is dying. Let me turn you. Please. I don't want to lose you too," the familiar voice pleaded.

I gurgled out the word "vita" through the blood that was pooling in my throat. I felt something damp on my neck and then a pinch. Soon, everything was black and I knew nothing. I was nothing. I was not Godric anymore.

When I finally woke, I felt new. There was no other word for it. I felt the solid presence of my Maker next to me. He had been waiting for me to rise; I could feel his excitement in my blood.

"Godric. Rise, Godric. Know your new self." I recognized myself, but I was more than just the Godric who had been a shaman, a refugee, a slave. I was more now.

"It's you, Phaedrus?"

"Yes, Godric. I found you," he said.

"I thought you were dead. You left even before..."

"Yes," he interrupted. "I know she is gone." Phaedrus' voice was sad. My sister... his wife... "I am dead. I was taken without a choice and I could not come back. It was an impossibility. I am a Vampire and now you are one as well."

He explained the mechanics of resting, feeding, killing.

"We should find you a human," he said. We emerged from the black depths of the cave... our cave... and I hunted for the first time.

****

"I was completely dependent on him for a while. Longer than you will be dependent on me," I smiled at Eric proudly. "He was a very young vampire himself when he made me, so it took us longer to learn. We stayed together for only 10 years before he met his final death," I said.

Eric pulled in a breath. "You have been alone since then?"

"I lived with others from time to time, but I have never made another."

"We must have more than a decade," Eric said, again pressing our foreheads together. His words ghosted across my skin. They were tinged with desperation and need.

"We will have more. I have made it to a millennium by being prudent. There is no reason to think anything will change that would bring my final death as Phaedrus met his."

Very, very quietly, Eric said, "I would not be able to continue without you, Godric."

I put my hands on his shoulders and squeezed. "I am here with you now and forever, Eric. My blood is yours, and yours is mine."

"Don't leave me," Eric breathed.

I swept my lips across his. The pull of emotions in our blood was full of want from both sides of the bond. Eric pulled at my waist, pressing our groins together.

"Please, Godric," Eric said against my lips.

He needed this. I wanted this. I pushed him onto his back on the ground and sat across his lap.

"I own you, and you own me too. Remember that, Eric. You can feel our blood bond as I can."

Eric nodded and then slowly smirked. His hands firmly pressed my hips down and he moved his up, pulsing his growing erection against me. My fangs descended slowly as I looked at him. We had little use for words now.

He pulled at my clothes and I at his. His fangs snapped down and I felt my cock throb. I bit my wrist, letting blood ooze down into my palm before I palmed our bared cocks together. We slid together, moving our hips in opposite time. I curled over Eric's huge frame, running my tongue across his chest and finding his nipples already hard. I drew the tips of my fangs along his skin, and then reached for his mouth.

Eric leaned into my touch, panting ever so slightly. I knew he would lose that human mannerism soon, fully joining me in life as a Vampire. I wanted him to be my Vampire so completely, I wanted to possess him so fully, that I pressed my palm on his chest to cease his human movements. He obeyed, and flipped me onto my back, throwing my legs up in a smooth motion.

He took me that night, and I took him. We owned each other completely, blood, body, and soul. As the dawn came and we covered ourselves for the day, he embraced me. His perfection was nearly absolute in my eyes. The idea of our passion dying one day made me ache.

Eric died for the day as I linked my fingers with his and kissed his lips.


End file.
